


the moonlight rhythms

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt and comfort, Vague Book Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 07:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11143599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: "There’s something magnetic about Livia’s stare - vulnerable and innocent, with her unshed tears dried on her cheeks, but the edge in her voice and how her fingers twist to intertwine tightly with Isabella’s own force words past her mouth." Livia mourns, and Isabella finally joins her on the fifth night.





	the moonlight rhythms

**Author's Note:**

> Super vague due to book spoilers, but I kept it in the TV verse, as well?

Isabella finally joins her on the fifth night.

At first, she lay in bed and listened: she heard Livia’s silent sobs bleeding out from her soul, leaving spits of her broken heart on the concrete of the balcony. Livia has her own room, of course, but since she sleeps right beside Isabella - their joining balcony allows Isabella the pleasure of keeping an eye on her lady-in-waiting.

But on the fourth night, when Isabella can only stare at the blank wall of her bed chambers with Livia’s tears as her only white, she decides that something needs to change.

So the next night, when half of the moon sways in the night sky and Livia escapes for fresh air, Isabella joins her.

At first, Livia tenses and Isabella wonders if this is a mistake. But the other woman relaxes, smiling softly, and Isabella sits beside her, feet dangling between the bars as their bare feet cool in the breeze.

“I’m sorry I woke you, your Grace.” Livia holds onto the bars with her fingers, forehead resting against the railing. “I thought the door was closed.”

Isabella tilts her head, smiling. “Do not apologize for grieving, Livia.” Without thinking, she wraps her fingers with Livia’s. “I only wish you would not do so in the dead of night, with no one to talk to.”

“I have the moon, your Grace,” says Livia nodding upwards. The moon, indeed, shines brightly, highlighting Livia’s skin in shadows and glitter. She glows. Isabella runs her thumb along the back of Livia’s palm.

“Please, Livia, call me Isabella. In the privacy of our bed chambers, I am your friend, not your Princess.” Livia’s skin is cool and soft and Isabella watches her own fingers dance. “And as your friend, you can always talk to me.”

Her face turns and her dark eyes hide fire, but their softness embraces Isabella until she feels so warm she shivers. “I’m - I’m sad, Isabella.” Her name sounds foreign and strange, but not comfortable. “But I don’t want to be sad anymore.”

There’s something magnetic about Livia’s stare - vulnerable and innocent, with her unshed tears dried on her cheeks, but the edge in her voice and how her fingers twist to intertwine tightly with Isabella’s own force words past her mouth. “What do you need?”

Livia doesn’t answer. Her lips part just slightly and Isabella cannot look away.

And when Livia leans in and kisses her, Isabella doesn’t stop her. She kisses back, because Livia tastes like the night with an aftertaste of ash, and because the softness in her eyes translates to her lips - but not to her teeth - and Isabella feels herself losing the battle she doesn’t want to fight anyway. Their hands remain clasped together around the railing, but Isabella’s free hand runs through Livia’s hair, twisting through curls as she inhales her. Livia tastes and smells like something bittersweet - but Isabella only inhales the sweet, sucks past the bitter, because she has not kissed anyone, man or woman, that clenches her heart like Livia.

And when blood rushes to her face, Livia backing away, their pants echoing the previously still night - Isabella doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know what to say. For the first time since she was a child, Isabella aches.

Livia’s black eyes turn to molten. So Isabella releases the balcony, slipping her legs out from between railings. Livia joins her. Sitting across from one another, they stare - neither wants to break the eye contact, the skin contact from their hands dancing to the moonlight rhythms, and Isabella - 

Isabella doesn’t want to lose her. Not now.

So she slips her hand beneath Livia’s hair and brings her lips to hers and loses herself in the hopes she can bring them both back to the surface once again.


End file.
